October 17, 2012

• Fame Ruined It All

  Imagine that you can focus your brain power on an object and make it explode. Now imagine that there is one can’t-be-exploded object in your apartment or janitor’s closet or steeple or wherever it is that you pass time mentally detonating objects. But you’re not aware of its invulnerability. You strain and struggle, wearing yourself to exhaustion, to collapse.

  I have a teacher, Will Franken, who applies a level of effort magnitudes greater than that to the pursuit of elevating comedy. His conviction is bold, brutally honest, untouched–peerless. I’m not saying that he can’t elevate comedy. I’m saying that every Newton of his energy is intensely and continuously focused only on comedy. He doesn’t simply approach comedy, he pursues it with scrutiny and philosophy.

  When you work with him, interesting philosophies and opinions appear that you’d never considered. The other night he pointed out how fame ruined everything. To paraphrase:

  For the longest time fame didn’t really exist, and it wasn’t an achievement a person strove for. No, instead you pursued your art, honed it, elevated it. You reached the top of your craft through being immersed in it and from there were able to live off it. You’d made it. Then came “fame”, and someone said “No, you’ve not made it until you’re famous. That is what matters.” And now the achievement of fame, not the achievement of elevating your art, has become “making it”.

  Fame yanked the soul out of art.

  And to round it out, fame delivered an exacting and crushing kick to soul in that people often state that they want to gain fame, but few people know what they’d do with it. They have no actual reason or use for fame. They’ve never thought beyond the moment of obtaining fame. How can you skillfully temper that fame and keep your soul if you have neither vision nor plan nor even vague notion about what you’d do once you have it?

  • 2:17 am
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